The Riders
by Nik0laiCarpathia
Summary: He is the renegade son of the city mayor, whose only true family is the motorcycle gang he rides with. She is the daughter of a paragon of law enforcement. When a tragedy rips him from the only love he has ever known, it may be the chance to build a life neither of them ever expected. AU / Modern
1. Chapter 1

**Ch. 1 : Thunderstruck  
**

Disclaimer– I do not own Naruto or any obscure references to other owned or written material, either official or those of fandom. They are all property of associated parties. Sort of grates on the nerves after a while, huh?

* * *

The dark cemetery was illuminated for just an instant as lightning split the sky. That brief flash lit the landscape as clearly as if it was the middle of the day. For that one fraction of a second, the world was different. The mirror image of what was to follow. Just as quickly as it came it was gone again, leaving the landscape even darker than it had been moments before. In a way, it was a decent metaphor for what had happened to him in the last three months. For longer than he could remember things had been dark, and out of the blue comes this... brightness. Lighting up his world and allowing him to truly see the world for the beautiful place it was... and then in a heartbeat, before he could truly appreciate what he had, it was gone without a trace. Now the world had gone back to what it was before, only this time it was painfully worse.

He was too far from the burial ceremony and the thunder was both too loud and too constant to hear what was going on, but he could guess. Other than the droning voice of the priest, who was performing the eulogy, the small burial plot would be devoid of speech. At this point, there really wasn't anything else that needed to be said. The condolences had been given. The 'we're sorry for your loss's had all been spoken. Now was the time for grieving. There would be time for everything else later. No, now was the part where some old man rambled on about how death was only a part of life, and how the person had gone on to a better place... Bullshit.

He took one last long pull on the cigarette in his mouth, and let it fall to the grass. Kira had hated that he smoked, and he had almost managed to quit. It seemed wrong to be smoking at her funeral, but at the same time the thought of going without one had terrified him more now than the notion of quitting in the first place had. He didn't bother to stomp it out. The rain would take care of that. A quick check to make sure no one could just walk away with his motorcycle, and he retrieved the only thing he had to give. Out of one fabric saddlebag, now soaking wet from the rain, he took a single tiger lily. It was a mistake to have come, and he knew it. His presence would only make things worse for her family, but he had always been a selfish bastard. He approached the site slowly, reluctant to break the solemn moment. As he got closer and closer, he could finally hear the voice of the man winning out over the storm that raged around them.

"It is truly a shame whenever one so young has life taken from them, but we must have heart. For now she resides in a place without suffering and torment. Where she no longer must toil and labor, and now can truly rest in peace. Give not your sorrow to the young woman who we give back to the earth, but to her mother and father who suffer now with us."

First only the priest in his black robe and stupid white collar thing saw him, and what a sight that would be. Shaggy blond hair hanging limp and dripping with rain water, obscuring his eyes behind yellow bangs. His left hand was pushed into the pocket of his leather jacket and his right hung limp with the flower clutched delicately between his long fingers. Thick riding boots left deep gauges in the soft earth, and the bottom of his jeans were flecked with mud and grass. Before long those listening, or half-listening, to the speech noticed the man had grown quiet when followed his gaze. More than one pair of eyes met his own not with expressions of pity or sympathy, but of outright hatred. The kindest reaction was a shake and turning away. The others...

"Why are you here, Naruto?"

Kira's father. A bull of a man that, as far as he knew, worked for a construction company. He was easily six foot five and had the same build as a small car; wide and hard. The man was standing with an arm around a woman who hardly came up to his armpit, and was obviously biting back on his anger. Other than the initial confrontation that came with any boy making moves on a man's daughter, they had gotten along pretty well. But those times had long passed. Before he even had a chance to respond, the woman tucked up against the man's side slipped away from him and stomped over to stand right in front of him. The cracking sound of the slap rang out, somehow being heard over the storm raging around them. Naruto ignored the pain in his cheek as he looked down at the small woman before him.

"You son of a bitch." Her words were barely louder than a whisper as she choked on her rage. "This is all your fault! If you hadn't taken her out on your fucking death machine she wouldn't have... she wouldn't be..."

Her husband put his hands on her shoulders, and she spun into him, sinking into his embrace. Her shoulders shook almost as badly as her knees did, and he wouldn't be surprised if her husband was holding her up. The man looked directly into Naruto's eyes, and while they had understanding deep in them, it was almost covered by the hurt.

"I think you should leave."

Naruto nodded, but didn't turn around. At this point he wasn't moving on his own power. He was just on autopilot, and along for the ride. On all sides of him he could hear the whispering. Not loud enough to make out individual words, but he couldn't care less what they were saying. All of his attention was focused on the simple black casket that was ready to be lowered into the ground. On either side was a neat pile of fresh dirt that seemed disproportional to the hole it had been removed from. Atop the black shell was an arrangement of flowers, bouquets, and pictures. Simple things that were all important to someone. A final expression of love for a person who was no longer with them, and never would be again.

As he placed the bright orange and black flower with the others, he was surprised by the lack of color. Most of the other flowers were either soft shades, or just plain white. That was wrong, wasn't it? Kira hated white. In fact, this whole thing would have driven her insane. The crying, the lack of color, the only thing that was appropriate was the weather. He laid his palm on the cool, wet metal and watched as the rain dripped down the back of his hand onto her final resting place. She had always loved the rain. Not really a big surprise, since he hated it. They had been total opposites in more ways than one.

_'How can you hate the rain? It's like the whole world is letting itself show the emotion it keeps bottled up the rest of the time.'_

His free hand curled tightly into a fist and his fingernails bit into soft flesh, causing little pinpricks of pain. Her voice was so real, she might as well have been standing right next to him breathing those words into his ear.

"How can you love it?" He asked so gently he couldn't even hear it over the sound of the rain. "Its cold, its wet, it makes it hard to ride." Those were the exact words he had spoken to her, and he could just see her smile and hear her laugh.

_'That's just because you've never felt it right.' _She had grabbed his right hand in hers, spun around so her back was pressed against her stomach, joined their lefts, and spread both arms wide. _'You can't just hide from it, you have to embrace it like a lover.'_

His stomach rolled as he relived the moment. He had... He had wrapped their arms around her and hugged her tightly and said.

"I'd rather just embrace you."

Her laugh had made his stomach leap into his throat. A soft expression of pure joy, closely followed by leaning her head back and burying it in the crook of his neck.

_'So hold me. And never let go...'_

He frowned as he felt something warm on his palm and was surprised to see that he had been squeezing so hard, he drew blood. With that the spell was broken and he felt a heavy hand rest on his shoulder. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was, and he had no intention of seeing the man again.

"She would have been glad you came, kid. But you really need to go. You don't belong here. I'll walk you to your bike."

It wasn't a friendly gesture. Just disguised as one. Really the man was just escorting him off the premises and ensuring he actually left. Naruto resisted just long enough to lean down just enough to press his lips to the casket, then allowed himself to be steered away from the burial plot and his mind to just stall out. He was aware of Kira's father saying something, but it wasn't registering. Just fuzzy background noise, like a radio station that wasn't tuned properly. He forced himself to wake up when they were standing in front of his bike, and he caught the very end of the man's sentence.

"She thinks it was your fault. Her mom, I mean." Naruto didn't bother trying to fake a smile, or any emotion at that. He just looked up at the kindest man he had ever met with eyes as hollow as his chest.

"It's okay. We both know it is my fault."

He ignored everything else that came out of the man's mouth. Every ounce of his focus was on strapping on the full face helmet that had been resting on the sissy bar. Normally he didn't even bother with the damn thing, but now it served a couple of purposes. It kept the rain out of his eyes, which was important in this kind of weather. It would keep the cops off of his back, which was good. He was in no condition to deal with something like that today.

The engine fired up easily, despite the weather, and he pulled off of the sidewalk that he had used in an impromptu parking space. A horn blared from behind him, which meant he probably hadn't been paying as much attention as he should have been and had almost gotten hit from behind. Usually he would have gotten some kind of rush or high from the experience and flipped whoever was pissed off, but he didn't bother.

The last benefit of a full face helmet? No one could see the water slipping down his cheeks that had nothing to do with the rain.

**XxXxXxX**

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Seven shots back to back rang out, and the young woman laughed happily as she ejected the magazine and did a quick check on the firearm. Fridays were by far the coolest day of the week in her opinion, because it was the day her uncle would take her to the firing range usually reserved for police officers. When she was throught with the sidearm she removed the protective ear pieces and heard a man's voice right behind her.

"You know, Tenten. You are downright _scary_ accurate with that M1911. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Behind her her 'uncle' laughed at his own stupid joke as she put the firearm down on the counter and hit the button to retrieve her target.

"Uncle Joe, you know I would never shoot a person." The man she considered more of a father than her very own rubbed the top of her head playfully as he tugged the target from the clip holding it in place.

"And I hope you never have to, Tenny. It isn't nearly as fun as the movies and video games make it seem."

He whistled appreciatively as he looked over the target. All seven shots had hit what had no doubt been their planned destination. Five in a tight circle centered over the heart and... one on each side of the face where the eyes would be.

"Hm," Tenten obviously wasn't as impressed with her own handiwork. "I was a little off with the first shot. She handles totally differently than that .357 you let me play with, and I under estimated it."

Joe cocked an eyebrow and looked it over again. The two of them must have been looking at different targets, because he sure as hell wasn't seeing what she was seeing.

"A little off? Tenny, if my guys could shoot half as well as you do, there would barely be any crime in the EC because the criminals would be too damn scared to come outside!"

The 'EC' was the affectionate local name for the city they lived in. Short for Elemental Country, so named for its sporadic weather. Only in this city could you have snow on Monday, a thunderstorm and Thursday, and be hitting the beach that Sunday. For anyone that wasn't a local, it was infuriating, but for the people who had grown up there it was simply a way of life.

"You say the nicest things, but don't call me Tenny."

He chuckled proudly as she removed her goggles and started cleaning out the chamber of the gun she had just finished using. When other girls had wanted dolls to play with, Tenten had been reading 'Guns and Ammo' and playing around with shooting simulators. Honestly, he couldn't be happier, or prouder, if she was his blooded daughter. Since her dad, his best friend since their childhood, had been promoted to Chief of Police for the EC, it had unofficially fallen to him to keep an eye on her and make sure she stayed out of trouble. You know, parenting stuff. At first he had been shouldering the responsibility as a favor to her old man, but now? He could honestly say he loved every minute of it.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be going to this big thing with your dad tonight?"

The girl's eyes got wide as dinner plates as she shot upright from her seat.

"Oh my god! I can't believe I forgot about that! Dad's gonna kill me if I'm late."

She started hurrying back and forth in the area she had been working in, picking up the gear she had been using and grabbing her backpack from school, as well as the duffel bag she usually kept at the station for just such an occasion. Joe enjoyed the sight of her spaz attack before clapping her on the back.

"Don't worry about this, I'll clean up the mess. Why don't you go use one of the showers at the back and get yourself cleaned up? You have some gun oil on you." She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

"Thanks, Uncle Joe." She turned to run to the back, but the older male stopped her. "Yeah?"

"I just wanted to let you know. Your mother would be so proud of you." She shot him another one of her smiles that lit up the room, then continued to get cleaned up and ready for the party she was being forced to attend. Just like her mother, she hated formalities and being tied to anything.

XxXxXxX

"So I understand you are in your third year of high school, am I correct?"

Tenten smiled politely at the elderly gentleman she was talking to. The party had been going for about thirty minutes now, and after a couple of obligatory speeches from the organizers, the guests had been left to mingle amongst themselves as they would. Unfortunately, she was the only person of her age she had seen, leaving her with a bunch of stuffy old men and women of various government positions.

"Yes, sir. I'm graduating next year."

"Good, good! I'm sure your father is very proud. Actually, is he here somewhere? I had something I wanted to speak to him about."

Tenten pointed her in the right direction and breathed a sigh of relief when he doddered off to go bother someone else. She took the opportunity provided to slip away from the crowd before someone else tried to start a conversation that she wanted no part of. Quick side trip by the buffet table to freshen up her drink, skirt the wall a little bit to avoid the crowd, a quick ladylike dash across to the balcony and she was home free. The cold air was a blessed relief and she sighed happily. The overhanging porch was covered and provided shelter from the rain that was still pouring heavily. The cold air stung her lungs and sinuses, and she leaned backwards over the railing to let some of the rain water fall on her face and throat.

"Nice view," A voice to her left called out. "But I doubt your daddy would appreciate it much. No doubt that's not what he had in mind when he picked that dress out for you."

She was proud of herself when she didn't jump at his voice and simply rolled her head to face the speaker. The blond boy was sitting down on an elaborate stone gargoyle with one leg hanging over the side and the other cocked at the knee. He was wearing a ragged pair of blue jeans and a black leather jacket that hung open, revealing a simple white t-shirt. She looked down at her own clothing. Sleeveless pink that hugged her sides and chest with a fold crossing over from her right shoulder to her left hip. It ran down to mid thigh with a slit up one side to allow for better movement. She hadn't been particularly happy with the choice at first, but her father had insisted she choose something feminine for the gathering and admittedly, it had grown on her.

"What makes you think I didn't chose this dress? Maybe I like it?"

"I doubt it. You keep toying with it like you don't like how it feels. If I'd have to guess, I'd say you haven't worn a dress in a while and prefer jeans like mine. Though don't get me wrong, you've got a good look going on. I like the pink, very feminine."

If anyone else had said those words, she would have thought they were hitting on her. But when he said them in that voice, they just sounded hollow. In fact, now that they were making eye contact, she could see that same emptiness was present in his eyes. The idea made her feel uncomfortable and she looked for a change in subject to take her mind off of it.

"You know, it probably isn't safe on that thing. What if you fell?" The blond made a show of looking off one side, then shrugging.

"Probably hit the ground and break a leg, maybe an arm or rib if I landed badly. Still survive it though."

"Optimist, huh?" He snorted with a distinct lack of humor.

"Hardly. I know all about falling and what is possible and what isn't. Right now it would hurt to fall from here to the ground, but unless I did a nose dive I could probably walk, if not limp, away from it."

"Don't you even care about your own safety?"

"Not anymore."

After that he just stopped talking and an uncomfortable silence fell over them once more. Typical, she thought to herself. The only other person her age was an emo kid hanging out on a gargoyle in the pouring rain staring off into space. The silence didn't last long, and she was the one to break the silence again.

"What's your problem? This is a party, you're supposed to be enjoying yourself. You look like you just came from a funeral or something." He didn't look at her.

"I did." She covered her mouth with her hands in horror at her faux pas, but her apology was cut off sharply. "Don't bother. You couldn't have known, so don't worry about it."

"Whose?" The boy exhaled slowly and wiped some of the rain off of his face and out of his eyes.

"My uh..." He cleared his throat, and his voice was rough when he continued. "Kira, my girlfriend."

"How long were you two together?" She wasn't sure why she asked. Maybe it was to keep the conversation going, or perhaps she was honestly curious. Or maybe it was because she could tell he still hadn't gotten it out of his system. Which would make sense, if he had just come from the funeral.

"Three months. Best damn three months of my life, too."

"How did the two of you meet?" The boy patted the pockets of his jacket as though he was looking for something, but when he came up empty he cursed quietly to himself.

"It's a long story."

His tone was cold and serious, and it left no room for more questions. The conversation was obviously over. Tenten knew she was intruding on some moment of private solitude, but she still didn't like the idea of going back into the party if she could help it. Maybe if she just stood there quietly and didn't say anything else, the awkwardness would go away?

"So why are you out here in the rain?"

The question caught her off guard. She hadn't been expecting him to break the self-imposed silence. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that he was looking at her with a glazed over sense of curiosity. The look he was giving her practically broke her heart, it was just so... ruined.

"Uh, I didn't want to be stuck inside. Every time I turn around there's some old guy trying to talk to me about something stupid. Besides, it's too beautiful of a night to waste standing around inside. What about you?"

"I didn't want to be here in the first place. For some reason my dad has gotten the idea in his mind that I should be present for this sort of thing. Hell, just showing my face would probably make those stuck up bastards nervous. I don't exactly have the best reputation when it comes to their circles."

He leaned his head back so it rested against the brick wall of the building, and the rain fell straight down on his face.

"Do you like the rain?" It was a stupid question. Why would he be out in the rain if he didn't like it? Come on, Tenten, get it together.

"Can't stand it." The response took her by surprise.

"Then why are you out in it?" He didn't say anything, so she prodded him. "Is it something to do with her?"

He winced and gave her a calculating look. He wasn't smiling, and if anything he looked pissed off that she had asked something like that.

"Perceptive, aren't you? So what about you? I'm assuming you like it or you wouldn't be sticking your head out in it."

"Yeah, there's just something about it that I've always loved. It's like the world is crying... showing emotion that it hides the rest of the time." She felt his eyes boring into the side of her head, and he had a look of pure focus. "What? Do you disagree?"

"A friend of mine said that exact same thing not long ago."

"Sounds like she was a pretty smart girl."

"I never said it was a girl." She smirked at him and winked.

"You didn't have to. It's all over your face." He grunted and turned away. "I never did catch your name, you know. I'm Tenten by the way."

"Naruto. Your name sounds familiar. Anyone I know?" She cocked her head. There wasn't really any reason he should know about her. As far as she knew they didn't share any classes, so the only other reason would be.

"Well, my dad is the police chief, if that helps." This time Naruto laughed, and a fraction of it reached his eyes in genuine amusement. The emotion was fleeting though, and she felt regret. Like it was some precious painting that had just been set on fire.

"It does, actually. I've spent enough time in one of the offices 'down town' that I know quite a few of the officers by name. Ol' Joe talks about you quite a bit. I didn't know he was the chief."

"He isn't. He's like an uncle to me. My dad is..."

They say that if you speak of the devil, he shall appear. Sure enough the glass door leading inward slid open and her father was standing in the doorway.

"Tenten, I've been looking for you. It's getting late and we should be leaving soon." He paused for a moment and looked around. "Are you talking to someone back here?"

She wondered what he meant, but quickly caught on. With the angle of the brick breaking the line of sight between him and the boy perched on the gargoyle, he couldn't see him. Judging by the way Naruto was shaking his head slowly though, he knew that her father was there. She didn't know why he would hide his presence, but she played along like a pro.

"No, just enjoying the night is all. If we're ready to go, I'll grab my coat." The man held it up, folded over his broad arm and she shrugged. "Or not. Okay daddy, I'm following you." She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Naruto nod to her goodbye.

The pair of them were silent as they exited the party, with her father paying respect to the organizer and assuring him that they would be attending the next one. After a conversation that seemed to run in circles for hours, they were in the family Mercedes and driving through the rain. The lack of conversation was maddening for someone like Tenten, but her father had always hated idle chatter. She had learned that early on, and it was easier to just bear it in silence than to try and go against tradition. Still, she was curious about something and her father was the only person she could talk to at the moment.

"Dad, what do you know about a boy named Naruto?" Her father frowned and glanced at her quickly, then returned his eyes to the road. Both hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, driving perfectly at the speed limit without variation. Just like always.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"A couple of older men mentioned him earlier." She lied effortlessly. "They didn't seem to think too highly of him, so I was curious."

"So you're eavesdropping now, hm?" She looked out the window so her father wouldn't see her roll her eyes.

"It was a party, dad. Not a private conversation." Her father was not amused by the statement, but he did consent to her point.

"He is the only son of Mayor Minato. But saying the apple has fallen far from the tree would be an understatement. The boy is a menace to everything the people of this city have worked so hard to achieve." The man was gripping the wheel harder than was necessary, given by the white tinge of his knuckles. "He is a punk that rides around with a gang of friends on motorcycles with no regard for their own safety, or that of others."

A biker, huh? That would explain the leather jacket and boots, but he hadn't given off that sort of vibe when she had talked with him.

"In fact, it he is currently under close supervision and is the primary suspect in a criminal case." She gasped quietly.

"What could he possibly be suspect for?"

"Involuntary manslaughter."

**XxXxXxX**

With the girl, Tenten he added mentally, gone and the party coming to a close he really had no reason to stick around. He did his best to avoid any of the guests that were still around and made a beeline for the elevators leading down to the parking garage. He hadn't parked inside it of course, that would have looked tacky and this was a classy place. He was parked around the corner and down the street a little ways where no one would see that 'monstrosity' as he had heard an old man with an eye patch once call it. Monstrosity, sure. They just couldn't stand that his motorcycle was painted up like the Kyuubi no Kitsune, the ancient nine tailed beast of legend.

From the fierce maw surrounding the front tire with teeth to the majestic tails flowing over the back one, and covered in black and orange, the machine was a work of art in his humble opinion. It and all eight of its siblings were. Even though it was nothing but paint on a three dimensional surface, the design was so realistic that you could practically feel the luxurious fur of the tails and prick yourself and one of the dripping fangs. The only thing he wasn't one hundred percent on was that it had been proportioned so that the eyes were the headlights. Appropriate and his friends assured him that it looked wild, but he wasn't sure he liked it or not. Still, it was a petty price to pay for such a beauty, and it didn't diminish his love for it a bit.

The engine roared to life, giving homage to the beast it symbolized, and he didn't bother latching his helmet this time. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he felt better after the conversation with the girl and now that his heart was pumping from almost getting caught by her father, he felt alive again for the first time in days. The engine between his legs screamed as he bounced through the gears as quickly as he could, gaining speed until the the streetlights were a blur and he was passing the other vehicles like they were standing still. This was what he had been missing these last couple of days. The feeling of power, of adrenaline coursing through his veins and making his pulse skyrocket. The knowledge that if he screwed up in the slightest, even the barest miscalculation, and he would probably be dead before he even came to a stop... It made him feel alive.

His destination was not the house his father lived in, but the place he called home. Twenty five minutes away from the rich side of town he had just come from, you could see the lives of the other eighty percent of the population of the EC. Run down businesses and apartment buildings ten or fifteen years from being condemned littered the streets. Sirens and car alarms along with breaking glass and the occasional scream were the lullaby of this part of the city, and it suited him more than the carefully cultivated gardens and polite society that he had been born into. In fact, he hadn't even known the sense of belonging he had here until he first met his brothers and sisters in the Academy during his first year.

He pulled into a back alley between two buildings that were damned near as old as the city itself. The one on the right used to be a library or something until the heaviest storm of the decade had trashed the roof and caused a massive leak that had ruined most of the books, furniture, and even some of the supports for the building. After the initial estimate to renovate it had been deemed too high to deal with, the building had been stripped of everything still in serviceable condition and left as a testament to the destructive nature of the city. Still, that four story library was where they had gotten quite a bit of the furniture that decorated their little corner of paradise. It had been an old nightclub with shady history that was built shortly after the library had been closed down for good. _'Dante's'_, the sign out front had read, and it was a suitable moniker.

Only two of the three floors were visible from the street, and to the average partygoer, it was enough. Fine, rich wood were on the floor and walls, strobe lights hung from the ceiling and bars covered the back wall on the ground floor. Purgatorio, the afterlife for the lost and those in need of spiritual growth, according to an old book. Go up a level and you would find a classy sports bar. Black and white furniture, marble counters and expensive televisions always showing the latest games on thirteen different channels. Truly the very definition of Paradise. On the outside and even from most of the inside, it was a dream come true in terms of clean entertainment. Go downstairs, however, and things took a change for the dramatic.

Here there had been that which caused the club's rise to fame, and its descent into ruination. The hard wood changed to cold stone and black lace drapery. There were countless shadows to hide in and the means to indulge in any and every vice known to man. Alcohol, while monitored in both of the upper levels, flowed like water here. Dancing girl were held suspended in cages from the arched roof and various stages were anointed with poles meant for other, less restrictive forms of human contortion. Large private bathrooms in the back provided discretion for those who decided to part with some hard, or not so hard, earned wage to get some company in return. For those who found alcohol to be a bit dulled to the senses, other forms of pleasure could be found in pill, powder, or herbal form. If you could pay the price. Needless to say, it hadn't been too long into the business' rich history that it started to attract attention from the local law enforcement. Soon enough there were busts, raids, and finally, it was shut down.

Now, like the library, it was a shell of its former glory. Ruined and left abandoned, forgotten by most of the city. Until they had found it at least. Now the building rich with the aura of human degeneration was the place the nine of them called home. What had once been a sports bar was an open bedroom, with beds spaced behind what cover there was without any specific pattern. Each of the beds were decorated according to the tastes of its owner, and the same could be said about their positioning.

The ground floor was their parking garage and storage area. There was where the beasts slept at night and whenever they weren't in use. The once perfect hardwood was spattered here and there with the black stains of oil and rags, wheeled back rests, and spare parts lay scattered around haphazardly. In the very center, spaced about three feet apart at varying intervals were six of the nine Bijuu, as they were called. The only ones missing were Ichibi, the raccoon ridden by Gaara; Yonbi, the great red ape that bore Roshi; and his own. After he shut his engine off and listened for a moment, he could hear the conversation going on downstairs, and could tell by the number of voices that everyone else was downstairs. Good, he didn't feel like having to talk to any of them right now. They would question him later, but for now he just wanted to sleep. He pulled the garage door Roshi had installed when he had found and renovated the place closed, and left his helmet hanging from one of the handlebars of Kyuubi.

After a quick shower and a change of boxers, he was laying on the mattress and box spring he kept behind one of the counters for a measure of privacy. He would also admit that the feeling of closeness that came with being surrounded on three sides by walls was a comfort to him, and the reinforced skylight made the bed he slept in one of his favorite places in the world. Simple, inelegant, but it was familiar and it was his. And that was all that mattered. He couldn't be sure how long he lay awake, staring up at the sky. It hadn't been long before he heard the sound of two motorcycles pulling in, one of which was the loudest of the nine – Roshi always had been a proud one - and the other unique in the sound of the running engine. For as long as Gaara had had it, Ichibi had an irregular revolution speed. When he joined up with their little entourage, Roshi had insisted on looking into it as their resident gear head, but had been dumbfounded when not only could he not tell what the problem was, there didn't seem to be a problem at all! It ran perfectly fine, just sounded a bit... off. Which, they would all admit, suited Gaara just fine.

When the engines cut off, the suite drifted back into quiet, and other than the muffled voices, it was just his breathing and the rain battering against the safety glass over head. The last thing he remembered seeing before he drifted off to sleep were the clouds floating past, black and swollen and flashing with lightning. Kira... would have loved this.

* * *

_A/N: Hey, big surprise he's at it again, right? This is an idea I had running through my mind for a day or two after re-reading one of my favorite manga series, _Mars._ Anyone who hasn't read it, I cannot recommend it highly enough. Drama, romance, love and loss, and most importantly, motorcycles. _

_This fic is going to be an experiment for myself, seeing if I can handle something less extravagant and more real life. Let me know what you think, even if that is just to attempt to get me back on track with my other works. No promises how high of a priority this is going to end up being, but given that the chapter lengths are going to stay relatively short, at least they will be out pretty quickly after I finally sit down and start writing._

_Take it easy guys, and as always. Stay Frosty..._

_- Nik0laiCarpathia_


	2. Wanted, Dead or Alive

**Ch. 2 : Wanted, Dead or Alive  
**

A/N : _Here we are, yet again. Enjoy._

Disclaimer– I do not own Naruto, Mars, or any obscure references to other owned or written material, either official or those of fandom. They are all property of associated parties. Sort of grates on the nerves after a while, huh?

* * *

**XxXxXxX**

**- **_? -_

"_I'm telling you, a shopping center is a horrible place to hole up in a stage three outbreak. Every idiot with a shotgun will be thinking the same thing. Ammo, food, water, relatively defensible; they'll all head there. Next thing you know, there are three hundred people crammed shoulder to shoulder and fighting over a packet of three-day old warm hotdogs."_

_Kira huffed and crossed her arms. He had a point and they both knew it, but that didn't mean she was giving up her side of the conversation._

"_Probably, yeah. But once the perimeter has been broken and people start scattering, it will be a good place to hit for left over supplies. I'm pretty sure there would be at least _some_ things left on the shelves, let alone whatever is left in the freezers and store rooms in the back."_

_In the background an eighteen wheeler roared past, breaking what little peace and quiet they had. The grassy hill beside the on-ramp of the Interstate may not have been an ideal, or even logical, romantic getaway but that just made it that much more private. Besides, it was just like Naruto to find somewhere like this. Beautiful in its own way, outside of the norm. Especially when you were laying in the cool grass watching the sun set on the coastal side of the city beside the boy of your dreams._

"_Well sure, but are those few scraps really worth the risk of entering a known kill-zone?"_

_And talking about the zombie apocalypse. She shoved him playfully on the shoulder._

"_You are such a pansy. You'll ride around like a lunatic for no good reason, but you won't risk yourself for food and medicine when you really need it? What's life without risk?"_

"_Life with my brains intact!"_

_She went to punch him on the arm, but he caught her arm in his wrist and held it easily. She was no pushover when it came to physical strength, but it was hardly a secret that he spent a good majority of his time doing some kind of strenuous activity, and it left him with a substantial amount of muscle mass. Plus the way he pushed his motorcycle around like it was a kid's tricycle? It left her lovestruck all over again._

"_Keep that up, and you might not get this back you know."_

_She hid her amusement and tugged on her arm. His grip was like iron, and she had to sit up in order to get better leverage._

"_Oh sure, picking on a defenseless young woman. Real classy, Mr. Biker. I wonder what everyone would think if they knew I was being accosted?" The boy underneath her chuckled, and his laughter was a very male thing. Husky and slow._

"_Accosted? Hardly. This is self-defense."_

_This time it was his turn to tug on her, just enough for her to lose her balance and have to shift her legs to catch herself. The motion ended with her right arm in his left, her body hovering directly over his with only a six inches of air separating them, and her being supported by her knees and the hand he had on her left hip, keeping her up._

"_See?" He continued as he drew her closer to him. The continued relocation left her unable to keep herself up, and she ended up supported only by his arms. "Here I am being a gentleman and you are attacking me. Holding me down with your body."_

_The cocky smirk was the only warning she was given before he repositioned her yet again with a quick flourish. She was spun around so her back was pressed into his stomach, holding him down. Her right arm was wrapped around her stomach, and her left was trapped between their bodies, a twinge stopping it from being perfectly comfortable, though it was easily forgotten amidst the heat that was pouring off of them both._

"_I'm glad you decided to sneak out with me, Kira, but is it really worth the risk? If your dad found out you were going out with me behind his back..." She placed her hand on his neck._

"_Naruto, stop talking." He complied and met her eyes. "And stop worrying about that, okay? I'm not, so neither should you. If he doesn't like me seeing you, we'll deal with it later. For now though, let's just enjoy the moment."_

**XxXxXxX**

**- **_Dante's -_

"Naruto, come on man wake up."

Naruto woke with a jolt as someone touched him on the shoulder. When he realized that everything he had just experienced had been a dream, a sinking feeling filled him as though he had eaten a rock. That dream shit was getting old, it really was.

"What?" He asked irritably as he rubbed his eyes and sat up. Fuu recoiled visibly at his harsh response, and his conscience twinged. He really shouldn't be as hard on her as he was. She had done nothing to deserve it, and in fact she had been the most understanding throughout his ordeal. In the sense that she wasn't an extreme of either pitying him, or bringing it up every half hour to see how he was dealing. Or just to screw with him.

"Gaara came in about ten or fifteen minutes ago. Dumbass got into a fight again last night and just dragged himself in bloody and pretty beaten up, and Roshi thinks he has a broken arm. You and I are going to hold him down so Roshi can set it, or it won't heal properly."

Naruto groaned in irritation and rolled onto his back, shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun with his forearm. He loved Gaara like a brother, they all did, but this was getting ridiculous. All nine of them had some kind of method of self-destruction but his temper and bloodlust was something else.

"You won't leave me alone until I help, will you?" Her shit eating grin was all the response he needed. "Alright, fine. Toss me my jeans, will ya?"

The coarse denim flew at him from over the counter that served as a divider from his section and the rest of the wide open space, and he wasn't nearly awake enough to dodge it. His thank you was muffled and he heard Fuu's laughter echo and fade as she went downstairs. Today was going to suck. He could already tell. With one last internal gripe, he pulled on his favorite pair of jeans and began the arduous process of finding a clean shirt. He seriously needed to clean this place up. He wasn't about to allow himself to just give up on life. Not over a girl. Or even _the_ girl.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Tenten : Higurashi Residence -_

Tenten sighed blissfully as she wrapped a clean and oh-so fuzzy towel around herself tightly. She fastened it with practiced ease so it would stay up without her constant supervision and brushed out her hair. It was relatively early in the morning, and judging by the car in the driveway below she would guess that her father was home. She hadn't heard anything from him yet though which was odd. He was usually up before her.

With her hair sorted out and left down to air dry, she clothed herself with a short pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt. She had no intention of doing anything productive today. School was going to start up soon and she had a part-time job as a pizza delivery driver that occupied a good deal of her time, so she treasured what little down time she was able to get.

Her first stop out of the bathroom was the kitchen where she fixed herself a tall mug of chocolate milk. As she passed the dining room of their multi-story house something made her stop. Her dad had obviously been drinking heavily last night and there was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels lying on its side next to his laptop and a photograph of... She sighed heavily and stood the frame back up. The beautiful woman in the picture was her mother, the only weakness her stoic father had ever shown. There was no wonder he had been in such a state last night.

She went to pick up the bottle and throw it away, but a flash of color from the laptop screen made her forget it entirely. Her father was usually very careful to keep his business laptop locked so she couldn't sate her curiosity, but while drunk he must have forgotten. Now it was sitting there, screensaver swirling and beckoning to her with promises of forbidden knowledge. She glanced up the stairs and through a gap in the banister she could see her father's bedroom door open and revealing his form splayed out, face down and fully clothed. He was dead to the world and snoring loudly. Perfect!

Tenten pulled back the chair with a dancer's grace and turned the laptop to face her. A sweep of the touch pad banished the screensaver and revealed whatever had occupied her dad before he was lost in his anguish. She sighed in relief when the official police records appeared. For one, it saved her the hassle of trying to get into them. For another, she was _really_ glad he hadn't been watching porn. That would have made things awkward as hell. She perked up when she saw exactly what he had been looking up. A middle aged man with short brown hair and dull hazel eyes stared back at her with loathing pointed at those taking his mugshot.

_Name: Sean Baxton : Age 34_

_Criminal Record : Public intoxication, driving while under the influence of alcohol, and murder of the third degree of..._

Tenten gasped in horror and covered her mouth with her hands. This was the bastard who killed her mother shortly over a year ago. The man had fled the scene and left her mother to die in a dirty alley for the thirty dollars in her purse. Ever since that night her dad had been searching for him with single-minded determination that had eventually earned him his position of Chief of Police.

She took a sip of the cold milk to soothe her cramping stomach and closed the picture of the man's profile. The glass was empty by the time she stopped shaking and her initial curiosity returned. The first thing she did was to find the 'Most Wanted' section and click on the very top hit.

Konoha's personal public enemy number one, the most dangerous scum bag running the streets, was even younger than she was! What the hell? The boy's hair was a fiery red and he bore a tattoo that she recognized as a symbol for love on the right side of his face, but the most disturbing part of the picture were his eyes. Cold, soulless. The only time she had ever seen anything like that was the last documentary she had seen on TV. The one about sharks.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Gaara_

_Known Aliases : Ichibi's Rider._

_Age : 16_

_Known Affiliations : Bijuu / Academy Student_

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

"Get away from me! All of you!"

Naruto grit his teeth and tightened his hold on the red head's left arm and chest. He and Fuu were both having to use their entire bodies to hold him down. While they were both more physically capable than most people their age, Gaara spent all of his time fighting uneven odds and winning. Plus he was fueled by the panic and rage combination that he fed off of.

"Calm down, goddammit!" Roshi cursed through the cigar he had clamped between his teeth. "You're going to make it worse if you keep thrashing around like that. It's a clean break right now but if you keep fighting us you're going to fracture it even more."

"Fuck you, old man!" Roshi's eyes narrowed angrily.

"I'm going to enjoy this, brat. Now hold him down. Yagura, you got those bandages ready?"

Behind them, dancing spastically to music only he could hear, a young boy nodded.

"Got 'em right here, brah!"

"Good. Now when I pull," He indicated the wrist he held tightly with both hands. "and set the bone in place, I want you to wrap it up. Not tight enough to cut off circulation, but I don't want him moving his arm okay?"

All three of them took the break-dancing as an affirmative. Gaara just snarled and bucked, lost in his rage.

"On three alright? And make sure he doesn't get loose until Yagura's done with him."

"Are we sure he even knows what he's doing? He doesn't look like he's paying attention."

Roshi smiled at Fuu's question. The girl fit in with them so well it kept coming as a surprise that she had only been around for a few weeks. He had to remind himself she hadn't been in their family since the beginning.

"Oh don't worry about him. He's done this before. Haven't you, Yagura?"

"Easy as Knockin' on Heaven's door, man." He shot her with a finger bang and winked. Though he might have blinked. It was hard to tell the difference given the headband he wore covering his right eye.

"Alright, here we go. One... two..."

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Tenten : Higurashi Residence -_

_Wanted For : Assault, Battery, Aggravated (there was a list), Resisting Arrest, Attempted Patricide, Suspected Homicide, Destruction of Property, and Vandalism._

_Psychological Profile : Displays strong sociopathic tendencies as well as uncontrolled rage, sadism, kleptomania, and hatred of everyone and everything. Highly unstable and displays many serial killer related symptoms. Danger to self and everyone around him._

_Advice for Apprehension : DO NOT approach alone or without armed support._

Tenten recoiled in horror at the idea that someone so young could be capable of such things. What could have happened to a boy to cause that kind of imbalance? His childhood must have been horrific. And if that wasn't enough she had another thought. If someone her age in this gang could be this violent, what were the rest like? She followed the link to the 'Bijuu' dedicated page and scrolled down to the next individual, ranked at number two.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

Naruto glared at the floor as he used both fingers to reset his now broken nose. The second Gaara had been released he had spun in place and punched him right in the face. He cursed once again and snorted harshly, expelling a glob of blood and mucus that had been clogging his nostrils. Of course with the plug gone his nose started dripping blood like a faucet that hadn't been shut off all the way. A damp rag passed into his field of vision, and he accepted it gratefully, applying it to his nose before looking up. Fuu was standing above him and smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry to bring you into this, Naruto. But Gaara's just too strong for me to hold alone."

He groaned and rubbed his forehead with his unoccupied hand, smearing a little blood over his brow without noticing.

"It's alright, I've had worse. Was nobody else here to help?"

"Well... not exactly." She shuffled a bit and it caught Naruto off guard. Usually she was in control of herself, if not anti-social. To see her embarrassed was downright bizarre. "Han is awake but he's just been sitting on his bike drinking since I woke up, and I don't know how long before that."

Naruto glanced over to the parking area and, sure enough, Han was sitting with both forearms resting on the handlebars of Gobi and had a Jack Daniels in his hand. Littering the ground around him were about a dozen dead soldiers and he wasn't slowing down. The blond sighed at the sight, but didn't try to interfere.

"Why does he do that to himself? It could kill him. It _will_ kill him!" Fuu's voice and eyes had the pleading quality of someone who wanted desperately to do something, but couldn't. The helplessness that he had always been very familiar with.

"The same reason Yugito and I ride as hard as we do. Same reason Gaara will piss off a dozen drunks alone. And the same reason Ukataka chain smokes blunts like they're a life raft and he's about to drown. It's just a way to deal with things."

A very feminine yawn brought their attention around and Naruto rolled his eyes at the sight.

"Well well, look what the cat dragged in."

Yugito, wearing only a baggy white button down that barely covered a pair of purple panties, shot him a glare. Though the effect was diminished by the lack of heat behind it.

"That joke stopped being funny the first time, short stuff. Now its just annoying." She arched her back and practically purred in delight.

Standing at an even six feet tall with long legs, long hair, and long eye lashes, Yugito was every part the Femme Fatale she played. With bright blond hair adorned with black and purple streaks that she usually chose to either tie back into a pony tail or hang loose to frame her considerable bust, there was really no wonder she was the second most wanted person in their entourage. She also stood out as the only Rider to ever be accused of rape, though there was debate over whether it counted as rape if the 'victim' was begging for more by the end and shyly refused to press charges after the fact.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Yugito Nii_

_Known Aliases : 'Hellcat' / Nibi's Rider_

_Age : 23_

_Known Affiliations : 'Bijuu' / SRA – Street Racing Association (Repeating Contender)_

_Criminal Record : Speeding, Excessive Speeding, Avoiding Roadblocks, Resisting Arrest, Escaping Custody, Seducing Officers of the Law, Rape (?), Reckless Endangerment, and Gas Drive-Off._

_Psychological Profile : Adrenaline Junky with total disregard for safety of self and others. Sexually aggressive and more than willing to play off of own narcissism. Possibly a sex-addict._

_Advice for Apprehension : Female officers, elaborate roadblocks, and constant supervision. Separate from motorcycle!_.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Tenten : Higurashi Residence -_

'Now there's a role model.'

Tenten thought to herself as she read through the records of the oldest female member of the Bijuu Motorcycle Club. Her eyes widened as she looked (or maybe stared) at the young woman's mugshot. Her hair was mussed up and her lips were puffy and an angry red. She must have been in the middle of something when the apprehended her the first time. She also had a predatory gaze of pure sex staring directly toward the viewer, as though she had been flirting with the camera man. For the first time in a while, Tenten found herself wondering what another girl's lips would taste like. She quickly shook herself to snap out of it. She was straight dammit. A well tested theory she worked out years ago. But damn, this woman was hot.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

"What's doin' bros?"

Naruto, Fuu, and Yugito all glanced over to where Yagura was approaching them with two mugs of hot coffee in each hand. As always, he was bobbing his head and bouncing along to some tune, but he was also smiling happily. Whatever world he lived in must have been alright, because none of them had ever seen him upset.

"Morning, Yagura. Are those for us?" The teenager nodded and Yugito squealed in joy. The boy handed out the mugs and kept one for himself. A black one for Yugito, ornage for Naruto, and a tie-dye blend for Fuu. His own was just a plain white, though it did have 'HAKUNA MATATA' in bold black along the outside.

The girls took a single sip and sighed in bliss. Among his many... many... bizarre and seemingly unrelated talents, Yagura was an excellent cook. When he made use of the kitchen, everyone stopped and ate. Even Gaara and Han.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Yagura_

_Known Aliases : 'TK' / Sanbi's Rider_

_Age : 15_

_Criminal Record : Breaking and Entering, Burglary, Grand Theft, Laundering, Fencing, Resisting Arrest, Operating Motor Vehicles without a License, and Trespassing._

_Psychological Profile : Suffers from moderate to severe Dissociative Disorder (perhaps from childhood trauma?), and thus is always partially 'in his own world'. Hard to track and harder to catch, but is surprisingly non-violent. Severe kleptomania presumed, but more information is needed._

_Advice for Apprehension : ATV's, K-9 units, only pursue in daylight with a helicopter in air. Full man-hunt preferred and constant supervision required._

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Tenten : Higurashi Residence -_

Okay, she took it back. HE was young! She couldn't even imagine a fifteen year old being able to pull off the kind of heists that this police report was suggesting. Let alone actually get away with them. The note about Dissociative Disorder rung a bell though, and she made a mental note to look into it some more later on. These 'Bijuu' had sparked her curiosity and now she wanted to know everything she could about them. Something was bugging her though. She could have sworn the name of their group sounded familiar. But where had she heard it before?

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

"Alright you guys, Gaara's settled down for now and he's here to apologize. Right?"

Roshi looked down to Gaara, who he was pinning in place with both hands on his shoulders. While the others jokingly called he and Han the old men of the group, at mid-twenties they were both well in the prime, and perfect specimens to top it off. Roshi had thick shoulders and the calloused hands of a mechanic while Han, when not relaxing, was always wearing a top of the line designer suit purchased from the classier stores uptown. It was practically a prerequisite to dress well in order to work at the accounting office he spent his days in.

Still, for all of the man's bluster and rough ways Roshi was practically a father to them, if not a really cool elder brother. He, Han, and Bee had founded their little gang years ago and they served as the wardens, guardians, and ringleaders. Roshi was best at it though, by far. In fact, it was he who could brag about bringing together the eight riders who, if not for their love of motorcycles and dislike of authority, would never have interacted. He took pride in his work as resident gear head, and privately he liked to think he knew the Bijuu better than the riders themselves did.

Except Ichibi. The stubborn bastard...

"I apologize for responding... negatively. I know you were..." The redhead's eyebrow twitched a little. "...helping... me." He actually shuddered, which contrasted hilariously with his usual blank poker face.

"We forgive you!"

Yugito, Fuu, and Yagura were all peppy in the response, but Naruto held off. He had just had his nose broken, dammit. He could afford some petty resent. Of course, Roshi just stared at him expectantly.

"It's fine. Just do me a favor okay? Next time... don't aim for the face."

The others all laughed, but Gaara's shoulders simply relaxed. He must have seriously been concerned if something like that had slipped past his usual self-control. For anyone else it was a simple reflex, but for Gaara it was the equivalent of crying in relief. Gaara nodded once to acknowledge his thanks, then walked out the garage door leading to the outside world. Roshi saw where he was headed and groaned.

"Oh not again! You're joking, right?"

His only response was Gaara dragging in a large chunk of metal that looked suspiciously similar to...

"Is that an exhaust pipe from a touring bike?"

"Yes. Put it on." Roshi immediately covered his face in a dirty rag and sobbed into it while Fuu shot Naruto and Yugito a questioning look.

"What did he mean by 'put it on'?"

"Well have you ever wondered why Ichibi looks the way it does?" Naruto answered with a question of his own. Yugito though, was quicker to actually answer.

"Whenever Gaara fights someone and wins, he has a habit of taking a piece of their motorcycle-"

"Or car!" Naruto added, interrupting Yugito. The woman just laughed and nodded.

"-or car, and has Roshi fit it onto Ichibi somehow."

"It's actually really impressive." Naruto finished as he dabbed at his nose one last time to clear away the last of the blood, then tossed the rag onto the overflowing hamper. "Plus that's why Gaara's bike looks like..."

"An abomination?" Fuu's supplied response came when the two were searching for the proper word to describe it.

"Yeah."

"Pretty much."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ICHIBI, YOU PSYCHO!?"

The trio spun around to see Gaara wheeling in the trashed wreck that was his bike. Again. The left side was ground down to almost a flat stretch, a section of his gas tank was caved in, most of the left handlebar was just gone, one of the tires was clicking while it spun, and a couple of cables had obviously snapped. Gaara seemed entirely unconcerned by the tall man screaming at him.

"I crashed."

"No shit! I thought you said you got into a fight?" Gaara cocked an eyebrow.

"That's why I got into the fight."

And with that simple excuse Gaara walked past him with a license plate in hand in the direction of a corner of the workshop whose wall was reserved for others of its kind. Many others. Fuu marveled at the sheer number of plates as Gaara grabbed a screw gun and fastened it in place next to one with a bird of some kind decorating it.

"He might not always take a working part," Naruto explained. "but he always takes the license plate."

"Why?" Naruto shrugged idly and stole a cigarette from Roshi's unattended packet.

"He said it's easier than hiding bodies, and I didn't ask for details."

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Tenten : Higurashi Residence -_

Tenten dropped back into her seat and took a hearty draw on the fresh, foamy glass of milk. It was crazy, the amount and variety of crimes these crazies had committed in such a short period of time, and she still had six profiles to read through yet. The next profile belonged to some tall guy that looked perfectly like the stereotypical biker, just not with white hair. Instead his hair was a fiery red and was pulled back into a thick ponytail and much of his face was hidden behind a thick, survivalist beard and mustache of the same colour.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Roshi_

_Known Aliases : Yonbi's Rider_

_Age : 25_

_Known Affiliations : Bijuu / Chop Shop Circles_

_Criminal Background : Chop shopping, Distribution of Stolen Goods, Criminal by Association, Public Intoxication, Resisting Arrest, and Lollygagging._

_Psychological Profile : Obsessive Compulsive, extremely arrogant and prideful, but kind-hearted. Doesn't fit usual criminal case._

_Advice for Apprehension : Stakeout and Surveillance needed for more evidence before arrest warrant can be justified._

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

The group watched on as Roshi did what he could to return Ichibi back to working order and Gaara stood close by reminding him periodically to fit the new exhaust pipe onto the significantly smaller frame. Roshi was a pretty patient old geezer, but he was also hard headed.

"Damn it Gaara, for the sixth time. Putting that damn thing on Ichibi will do more harm than good! It's too big to be effective since it is meant for a much larger fitting, the weight would be unbalanced... horribly... and depending on where I put it, it would interfere with your turning."

"...so?"

"ARGH!"

Naruto chuckled despite himself and finished the last of his coffee. Black with a packet of beef seasoning from a ramen cup mixed in. Just the way he liked it. So what if the others thought it was weird? It was good.

"It's funny," Fuu mused as she nursed her own. (Plenty of milk and sugar) "Gaara is usually totally emotionless while talking to Roshi, but he still manages to wind him up. Why do they get along so well?"

"They don't." Han walked toward them with a half-empty bottle in one hand and was readjusting the bandana covering the lower half of his face with the other. "They hate each other. They just both need each other, so they'll deal with it. Gaara can't fix or afford to get Ichibi fixed by himself, and Roshi is never going to be satisfied until he figures out exactly what makes Ichibi run the way it does."

Han was a hulking brute of a man, tying in height with Bee though he wasn't as heavy. His stature only added to the intimidation factor brought on by the bandana, shades, and fierce cropped mohawk he sported. To anyone who didn't know him, Han was terrifying. And that was before he took of his sunglasses. Of the nine, Han was the one of the only two people to work in a legitimate place of business. Unlike the other, he despised it with a passion that put shame to the destruction of Soddom and Gahmorrah. For the last ten years he had been an accountant for a major legal firm in the EC, but the white collar environment was enough to drive him insane. If an early grave didn't get him first. Still, he had no real choice but to stick around. He had earned a high-ranking position over the years with his patience, tenacity, and brutal intellect. Plus it was a steady and great source of cash, and not just from the paychecks. Most importantly however, his position allowed him access to many usually secure files. Some of which were brought up against the other members of the gang. It was a simple matter to alter a few words here and there. Not enough to be noticeable, but more than enough to poke loopholes through the multiple criminal suits brought against his fellow riders.

It was a great thing he had going. He just needed to make sure not to burn the place to the ground with every one of his coworkers in it. Or be seen with the Bijuu of course, which was the exact reason so much of his face was covered so much of the time. If the cops ever got a confirmed identity against him, it would be enough for a full-blown investigation. At the moment though, all they had were suspicions.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Han_

_Known Aliases : Gobi's Rider (Suspected)_

_Age : 25_

_Known Affiliations : Hyuuga, Uchiha, & Ass._

_Criminal Record : Suspected Embezzling, Suspected Fraud, Suspected Arson, Suspected Criminal by Affiliation, Aggravated Battery, Attempted Arson, Resisted Arrest, and Public Intoxication._

_Psychological Profile : Extremly cunning and unstable. Pyromaniac with obvious rage issues. Unhealthy obsession with steamed crab, and alcoholic._

_Advice for Apprehension : More evidence required for arrest warrant to be issued. Confront away from civilians._

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

The familiar roars of two family members brought heads around as Utakata and Bee pulled in almost side by side and extremely recklessly. In fact, Hachibi knocked over the jug of water Roshi was using to check Gaara's bike for leaks in the coolant reserve. The jug being within arms reach, of course. Only a combination of Bee's skill and Roshi's faith in said skill prevented a very possible accident. The engines died out quickly, but continued to tick as they began the lengthy process of cooling.

"Damn, Bee." Yugito said, whistling in appreciation. "Damn near ran the old man down!"

The silver haired man dismounted and the bike sank heavily on its tires.

"Take a chill pill, Hellcat! He knows where my skillz are at."

Roshi seemed entirely unsurprised by the action and just sighed, picking the jug from its place. The water was left to slowly make its way to the strategically placed drains around the nightclub's floor. Originally their purpose was to ease the clean up after an infamous 'Bubble Party' that had once been held every month or so.

"So how did today's sales go? Everything okay?" Killer Bee grinned and tossed Roshi a wad of bills as thick as his fist.

"Sold out, my brotha'. Suppliers clean, might need anotha'."

Roshi weighed the bill roll thoughtfully and looked over at Bee's partner in crime, who was drawing a hand-rolled from a customized case.

"Is this true? I thought he was going to be steady."

"He was." The dark-haired older boy flipped his long bang back so it wouldn't trail in the flame of his lighter, but it fell into place over his left eye as soon as he was done. "Apparently there has been issues with his suppliers, so he will be dry for at least a couple of weeks. And before you ask, no. I'm not painting his bike again."

"Worry about that in a minute, we've got priorities."

Roshi tossed the roll of cash to Han, who nodded and headed downstairs. Despite the antisocial attitude, Gobi's rider had a great head for numbers. He could take the two grand and make it five by the end of the month. How was a mystery, but they all had their talents. Their leader frowned at Utakata's smoking.

"That better not-."

"Relax. It's a red-smoke, not one of ours. I hit up my guy on the way back and restocked out of my own pocket, as always. All the money from the deals is right there and accounted for."

There had always been a lingering unease between the two of them because Roshi, as a general rule, distrusted drug users and Itakata was the most experienced of them all. Name it and he's done it, knows how to make it and where to get it, and might be on it right now. The only reason Roshi trusted him as much as he did was due to Utakata being the club's second most reliable and continuous source of income, as well as the highest earning bar none. Plus in all the years he had been associated with them he had never skimmed off the top or used any of the product he sold.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Ukataka_

_Known Aliases : Rokubi's Rider_

_Age : 19_

_Criminal Record : Possession of Controlled Substances, Production, Distribution, Public Indecency, one count of Cannibalism, Under the Influence, and Resisting Arrest._

_Psychological Profile : Constantly under the influence of various drugs, possibly as a coping mechanism for a traumatic past. More details are available in his medical record._

_Advice for Apprehension : Back up recommended as he is always with dangerously protective customers as well as fellow Bijuu 'Killer' Bee._

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

The other riders watched the conversation uneasily, prepared to intervene if it came to blows. Such an event had only happened once in the past, but it had been brutal. Both participants had needed medical help, and they were all uncomfortable around hospitals for obvious reasons. Doctors meant questions and unanswered questions meant cops were called. Needless to say, it was important to avoid all that if at all possible. In fact, that was the primary reason Roshi and Yagura were learning some first aid. The more they could handle themselves, the better.

For a long moment Roshi and Utakata stared at each other, neither willing to back down from the challenge. It was only when Bee interjected his massive frame between them as a neutral party did the confrontation end. Fortunately, the muscle relaxing 'Red Smokes' chose that exact moment to kick in and the younger of the three loosened noticeably. It wasn't news to any of the Bijuu that Utakata was completely dependent on any and all drugs due to whatever fucked up shit had happened to him in the past, but it had been a surprise to everyone when he voluntarily chose to stay sober while he was selling the drugs that funded much of their little operation. He had related it to a baker staying hungry to increase the quality of his food. The downside to this was that on long nights, like the last had been, he began to feel the effects of withdrawal as his body's cravings began to punish him for his self-restraint.

"You cool, man?" Bee clapped his younger friend on the shoulder, and their eyes met. It pained him to see the clouded look in Utakata's eyes from the substance abuse, but he had never and _would_ never say anything about it. They had all been screwed over in some way in the past, but Utakata had gotten it worst of all. He knew the most of the riders about what their friend had gone through, and he could honestly say that what little he knew sickened him. The boy could deal with it however the fuck he wanted to.

"Yeah..." Utakata said. He looked tiny in his pale blue button-down and baggy jeans, and he turned to the side to blow the mouthful of smoke away from Bee out of consideration. "I'm good."

"Whoah..." Fuu whispered as she watched the surprisingly tender scene. "Did Bee just, like, not rap?" Naruto's laugh at the honest surprise in Fuu's voice made him choke on a lungful of smoke and he dropped his cigarette.

"If it's something important he'll restrain himself." Yugito explained while she pounded Naruto on the back. "Just don't expect it to last long."

Sure enough, the moment was quickly broken and Bee seemed to remember something. He grinned wide, bedazzling onlookers with a gleaming white smile and drew a CD from the trench coat he always wore open, exposing his broad bare chest. He flashed the album proudly and struck a pose that allowed them to see the title.

_Beastie Boys : Licensed to Ill_

"Hey, I love that album!"

Fuu was happily surprised and glad that Bee would finally stop replaying the last album he purchased. A month ago. As amusing as it was to see him run sideways around Dante's yelling 'Can't Touch This!' and punching someone just after screaming 'Hammertime!', she was more than glad to have a change of pace.

Naruto's reaction, however, was a little different. He groaned and knocked his forehead against a column supporting the top floor of their abode. Fuu was so naive, it hurt sometimes. It really did. Their newest addition had a lot to learn about each of their eccentricities. Bee's just so happened to be the most annoying, and loudest, of them all.

"Please Bee, I'm begging you here. _Please_ don't ruin the Beastie Boys for me."

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Fuu_

_Known Aliases : 'Lucky #7' / Nanabi's Rider_

_Age : 19_

_Criminal Record : Grand Theft Auto, Stealing Police Property, Assault Against an Officer, Speeding, Destruction of Property, Vandalism, and Resisting Arrest._

_Psychological Profile : Anti-social and highly acute Demophobia. She is also indecisive, impatient to a fault, and seem very eager to please her new friends. It is very possible she has lacked positive role models and social interaction, and may make a full recovery if she can be separated from the rest of the Bijuu. An odd note on her physiology, for some reason her adrenal glands are much more active than normal, increasing her strength to alarming degrees when she is pressured or stressed._

_Advice for Apprehension : Non-lethal take down and keep distance until she is neutralized. DO NOT approach or make physical contact. _

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Bijuu : Dante's -_

After two hours everyone in Dante's, sans two, would agree that the disc had to die. It wasn't that it wasn't good music, it was. It was just that 'No Sleep Till Brooklyn' got a little old after the eighth time in a row. Killer Bee yelling what few lyrics he knew while pumping weights loudly really wasn't helping either. The problem was that none of them could touch Bee if the tried. He had been an MMA fighter for years before he was banned after killing a man in the ring. After that had been a stint in prison, then as the primary enforcer of the Bijuu. All this led to a fighter that could destroy you in a matter of seconds.

And he was really protective of his CD collection.

Still, it wasn't all bad. Naruto and Fuu had gotten to watch as Roshi and Utakata argued about whether or not Gaara's bike would be getting another new paint job or not. Roshi's side mostly consisted of points like: he was an artist and it was his job, he was the best man for the job, and that Ichibi would make them all look bad if it wasn't painted, as well as the offer to pay him from Gaara's earnings. Utakata's rebuttal was mostly 'go fuck yourself with a cactus'. Finally a compromise was reached. Utakata would paint it, but he would neither try nor even sober up to do it. In the end Ichibi looked like someone had taken a couple cans of brown spray paint to it, which was actually exactly what had happened.

Gaara was pleased by the outcome and immediately went for a short victory lap on his newly modified motorcycle/car/thing hybrid. He soon took a turn too hard, lost his balance and fell because of the exhaust, scraped the gas tank, and bent the left handlebar. Roshi cried, Bee rapped. Kinda...

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Kirra Bee_

_Known Aliases : 'Killer' Bee / The Bee-ast / Hachibi's Rider_

_Age : 24_

_Criminal Record : Assault, Battery, Sound Ordinance Violation, Disturbing the Peace, Caused Public Indecency, Mayhem (One count), Sexual Assault, and Resisting Arrest._

_Convicted of : Manslaughter_

_Psychological Profile : A bother who wants to be a brother. Bee idolizes Mr. T and is surprisingly friendly. Extremely over-protective of his friends, and enjoys mentally torturing his enemies._

_Advice for Apprehension : Don't._

**XxXxXxXxX**

_- Tenten : Higurashi Residence -_

Tenten snorted at the ridiculous mug-shot photo detailing this Bee guy. He was the only Bijuu member that wasn't alone in his photo, and two cops were apparently trying to restrain him. Their efforts hardly even seemed to bother him though, as he was striking a ridiculous pose and grinning like he was posing for an autograph. His bone white hair was shaved and styled into a thick mohawk that stood straight and defied gravity.

A loud groaning sound had her spinning in her chair and she was horrified to see her father struggling to sit up straight and wiping his face quickly scanned through the last remaining profile and memorized as much as she could so she could think back on it later. By the time her father got downstairs his laptop was showing the screensaver and Tenten was cleaning a drinking glass in the sink nearby.

"Good morning, Daddy!" She called cheerily. If her father had been more awake he would have noticed her labored breathing and the quivering of her fingers.

"Morning, sweetheart." He winced at the volume of his own voice in his head and went for the medicine drawer. An aspirin cocktail, two parts tablet and five parts tap water, quickly got him on the road to recovery. He dropped down heavily on the chair facing his laptop and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Tenten, have you been using my laptop?" Time to play coy. She rinsed the glass and but it in the drainer beside the sink.

"No, sir. You must have left it on last night when you went to bed. What were you doing last night? You never sleep this late."

Her voice was the perfect combination of innocence and playful curiosity, and father grunted and woke up his computer. Subject change, success.

"Some research for work. Nothing for you to worry about." Translated: None of your business.

Before she could ask anything about his work, he poured himself a cup of coffee and walked outside to enjoy the morning like he always did. Tenten sighed at her father's condition and sullen mood, but didn't pursue him. She had something else to focus on at the moment.

**XxXxXxXxX**

_Name : Namikaze Naruto_

_Known Aliases : Kyuubi's Rider / Mayor Minato's Son_

_Age : 18,_

_Criminal Record : Possession, Assault, Battery, Speeding, Excessive Speeding, Reckless Endangerment, Distribution, Disturbing the Peace, and Involuntary Manslaughter (Pending)._

_Psychological Profile : Naruto is the son of the mayor, but is highly resentful of it. The death of his mother, Kushina Uzumaki, caused a rift between them and shortly after he began riding with the Bijuu. Borderline suicidal because of the guilt he punishes himself with due to the belief that the victim's death was his fault. Possible to be saved?_

_Advice for Apprehension : Pending Investigation_

**XxXxXxXxX**

Well didn't that just clear up a whole lot of inconsistencies. With a track record like that it was no surprise that her father was as distasteful of the boy as he was. The picture beside his profile wasn't a mugshot like the other Riders had been, but a personal one instead. The blond mystery was a few years younger than he was now and slightly shorter. He was sitting on a brand new dirt bike and on either side of him were two adults that he resembled in different ways. The man on the right was obviously the mayor and she recognized him from a couple of social gatherings they had both attended at the same time. She had never interacted with him herself, but he had the reputation similar to that of a knight in shining armor. Of a savior. Both he and the younger Naruto had bright yellow, too colorful to be blond, hair that clumped together in spiky locks that pointed in all directions. Their eyes also shone in the same way, lit from within by an intense energy.

The woman, in the meantime, was a gorgeous redhead in a dress shirt and... torn jeans. She had one hand on her son's shoulder and a full-face racing helmet in the other. Her smile was far less restrained than her husband's and had a feral, though not unfriendly quality to it. She had heard tales of how sensible and down to earth the Mayor was, so Naruto must have gotten most of his personality from his mother's side.

The heartwarming tenderness of the photo made for a sick juxtaposition, given that it was being associated with a criminal record. In fact, the beaming boy in the picture, no older than fifteen, seemed the complete opposite of the young tortured man she had met at the party last night. The sorrowful deadness contrasted heavily with the innocent happiness that lit up his younger version. Life had been cruel to Naruto since this photo was taken, and she wondered how much of it was associated with the glaring absence of the redheaded woman in today's world.

Tenten was so consumed by her train of thought, she jumped when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket and an air raid siren blared at her through the thin material of her shorts. Despite laughing at her own childish reaction, her heart continued to race from the schok and her hand quivered as she accepted the call and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Tenten speaking."

"Hey, it's Brian from Pizza Hut. I know its your day off, but I need you. We have a huge order coming in soon and none of the other drivers are willing to deliver it. Can you handle it? I'm willing to pay you extra." The pleading tone sounded out of place coming from her usually gruff supervisor. Must be one hell of a delivery. Tenten groaned at the idea of having to work on her day off, but Brian wouldn't have called if it wasn't important. He was cool like that.

"Alright, fine. I guess I can come in for this one." There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. "But you owe me one!" The man laughed happily.

"You got it. It'll be at least forty minutes before their order is done, so you have some time to get here. It is a bit of a ride to the address though."

Tenten was only partially listening as she dug around her bedroom dresser in search of a clean uniform.

"Uh-huh, and where is this place?" There was a long pause and Tenten paused with her hand on a graphic 'Guns 'n' Roses T-shirt. "Brian?"

It's downtown, in the old district. Specifically 13 Layer Lane." The address struck a bell and she thought about where she had seen it this morning. Nine times.

"Wait, isn't that the old nightclub? Dante's?"

"Yeah." There was a sigh of disappointment. He probably expected her to refuse the delivery. "Yeah it is."

"Cool," Tenten said automatically, unaware of what she was saying. "I'll be there soon."

"Excellent! I knew you could help me. You're a great girl, Tenten. I'll see what I can do about talking to the Manager about a raise when you get back!"

The conversation wrapped up quickly and Tenten was left to get changed and tie her hair up. It was against company policy to leave it down while handling food, even just delivering it. She worked quickly and with tons of practice as the same thought echoed through her head.

'What the hell am I getting myself into?'

* * *

_A/N: _Here we go. Way longer than I had expected it to be, but I wanted the quality to be up to par and it wouldn't have happened if I had cut it down to size. As always, read, enjoy, and most importantly, REVIEW. I will be adding this fic to a revised version of the poll on my profile page so if you haven't voted yet, do so. And if you have, do so again!

Deus Ex Machina is going to be the next to be updated, so keep an eye on it.

Stay Frosty...

- Nik0laiCarpathia


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